


for i see his soul through the azure

by moonlitsemantics (Mistropolis)



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, spoilers and warnings can be found in the notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-02-05 02:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistropolis/pseuds/moonlitsemantics
Summary: "I wouldn't do anything to change who you are, Kiibo," Saihara gently brushes Kiibo's bangs aside and presses a soft kiss on his cheeks. "I love you for who you are."Snapshots of Saihara and Kiibo, throughout their different universes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so for a bit of warning:
> 
>   * drabble 3 has spoilers
>   * the whole thing is so cliched and ooc tbh why did I write this
>   * remind me to find proper prompt list for when I write the kirukaede drabble collection
> 


**1\. noćnik**

_(n.) a person who prefers to travel at night [Croatian]_

 

⸭

 

“Saihara-kun, where are we going?”

Saihara remains nonverbal in the face of Kiibo’s inquiry. Instead, he smiles.

“We are going somewhere different for our date this time.”

“Didn’t we always go to a different mall and library though? How is this time any different?”

Saihara bursts into a genuine bout of laughter, and Kiibo’s cheeks color. “That’s factually true, Kiibo-kun, but what I mean is that this time we are not limiting ourselves to a common shopping mall or library. We’re going on a ride.”

With that said, Saihara pulls Kiibo up to the tram. Sitting comfortably at the back, the tram starts its journey slowly but steadily.

Saihara’s shoulder brushes Kiibo’s, and they both inconspicuously skirt a little further.

Saihara clears his throat. “Tonight, our date is on this tram.” he gestures to the view outside. “Ever seen the beauty of the night, Kiibo-kun?”

Deep into the night, the cityscape does take more and more shifts in its shape and features. The distant light shine and the skyscrapers tower above as if going right into the sky.

It is all a mystifying and gorgeous view, but Kiibo keeps shifting his eyes back to Saihara’s smile. It takes Saihara a few seconds to realize Kiibo’s gaze on him. “What is it, Kiibo-kun? Something on my face bothering you?”

“Oh no! That’s not the case, it’s just,” Kiibo catches himself before sputtering into saying something strange. _But then again, had Saihara ever judged his words as “strange”?_ “I, I do find watching your face somewhat more enjoyable, in comparison with the view outside.”

Saihara blushes, letting out a stream of white in a single breath that contains no word. Instead of saying anything more, Saihara is silently grateful for the fact that Kiibo can’t catch him watching his brilliant blue eyes while his head’s turned too.

 

* * *

 

**2\. milozvučan**

_(adj.) having a sweet and gentle voice that sounds very pleasant to the ears [Serbian]_

 

⸭

 

Saihara’s voice always sounds calming and gentle, unlike Kiibo’s loud, somewhat abrasive and admonitory one. The part about admonitory, of course, depends more on the occasion, but Saihara can’t deny the fact that most of the time Kiibo would raise his voice, and everyone will scoff at him.

The last part no longer bothers Kiibo that much anymore, but Saihara knows deep down that Kiibo dislikes his own voice.

One day, while wandering around the school, Saihara finds himself enjoying the quiet when an enthralling, soft voice flows out. Led by its allure, Saihara walks into the music room—

—Only to find Kiibo in it all by himself, singing.

“Kiibo-kun? Did you change your vocal box or?...”

Disturbed by Saihara’s sudden entrance, Kiibo lets out a shrill note that devolves into a choking noise, prompting Saihara to get to his side and gently patting him on his back. Having righted himself, Kiibo explains. “Tru—Truth be told, Saihara-kun, I have removed my old vocal box and took another from Papa.”

“But why do you have to? Is it about being an idol again?”

“It’s… Not actually, but…” Kiibo fiddles with his fingers, eyes looking everywhere but Saihara’s direction. “One—One time you mentioned wanting to hear this song, but no one knows how to sing it so…”

“You, you got your vocal box removed just so sing for me?”

“It’s, it’s nothing! I mean, I never really like my voice anyway,” Kiibo coughs and ventures a glance towards Saihara. “So! Saihara-kun, do you want to hear me sing?”

“I would love to! But now, what if I prefer your original singing voice than this?”

“How, how is that possible though?” Kiibo lets out an indignant yelp at Saihara, who smiles and presses a kiss at Kiibo’s right hand instead.

“Wait—What—”

"I wouldn't do anything to change who you are, Kiibo," Saihara gently brushes Kiibo's bangs aside and presses a soft kiss on his cheeks. "I love you for who you are."

 

* * *

 

      **3. mångata**

_(n.) the glimmering, road-like reflection of the moonlight on water [Swedish]_

 

⸭

 

Saihara skips, once and twice and thrice, rain boots stomping into the puddles by the beats of a song he doesn’t realize he is humming. The vague outline of a smile adorns his porcelain face, not a single worry line imprinted on it.

“... Saihara-kun?” Kiibo calls from behind, watching Saihara’s mindless amble forward.

“Yes?”

“The moon is quite beautiful today.”

Saihara stomps into the puddle once, twice more. Then he pauses.

“Moon?”

“Yes. The moon. Do you remember anything?”

The song Saihara is humming suddenly becomes the only thing that Saihara could hear, the melody and its gentle atmosphere enveloping him. The sound of it being played by a piano. The sound of it being hummed by a girl.

Saihara screams. He flails his arms and reaches for Kiibo’s throat, but Kiibo quickly placates him with a firm grip on both of them. Kiibo gradually applies more pressure and the strength in Saihara goes out, his entire form relaxing and the fight going out of him.

Saihara slumps down to his knees and wails into his bruised palms.

“Saihara-kun. You’re forgetting her again.” Kiibo crouches down to Saihara’s side, tentatively wrapping his own arms around him. Humans call it a hugging, a gesture of comfort, right? “The treatment isn’t working, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Despite the protest, Saihara’s tears do not cease.

“Team Danganronpa can’t keep up their bullshit forever…” Kiibo struggles to get him up, but Saihara remains planted to the ground in a crouch.

Kiibo stands up and takes out Saihara’s phone, dialling up Maki’s number. If anyone in their broken little family is experienced with retrieving someone, that should be her. Having done that, Kiibo turns back to Saihara.

“Saihara-kun, do you like the reflection in the puddle?”

“... No.” Saihara starts rubbing his eyes, and his voice sounds more modulated now. “How could I? And why would I? It’s not real. It’s just a reflection and there’s nothing to it.”

“There’s nothing to it and it’s fake, I know. But you forgot, Saihara-kun. I’m still here. I’m real and I’m here.”

 

* * *

 

      **4\. librocubicularist**

_(n.) a person who reads in bed_

 

⸭

 

Reading in the bed is a recent habit of Saihara’s. It doesn’t really influence Kiibo in any way, but the constant flux of laughter coming from his back is admittedly vexatious.

“Um, Saihara-kun?”

“Hmm?”

“I was wondering, if you, ehh, can move somewhere else when you read? I mean, I enjoy your company and being in bed with you feels nice in some ways I don’t get yet, but I also feel like… Your laughter…”

“Is a bit too loud? Okay, I will move it.” Saihara gets off the bed and sits down into the couch at the corner of the room. Farther away, Saihara’s laughter is much quieter and suddenly Kiibo feels the situation is grating more on his nerves. The expanse of emptiness on the bed, the lack of him next to his own form.

“Sai—Saihara-kun, can you move back here?”

Saihara’s face is inscrutable from behind the book, but Kiibo can imagine a smirk. “What is it about my laughter again, Kiibo-kun?”

“It, it’s a bit too loud, but I don’t mind if that means you can… Come back here…” Kiibo attempts to hide himself under the covers, but ultimately surfaces to look back at Saihara. “I mean, sleeping next to you is nice.”

Saihara closes the book and all but jumps back into the bed, an almost cheeky smile uncharacteristic of him blossoming on his features. “How about I let you read the  book with me together?”

“Sure!” Kiibo carries the cover up high to let Saihara join in, and together, the two boys learn the arcane arts of humour and being together.

 

* * *

 

      **5\. phosphenes**

_(n.) the colours or the “stars” you see when you rub your eyes_

 

⸭

 

An itch should be considered unnatural for any robots to feel—but as the Super High School Level Robot, Kiibo’s sensors are unnaturally enhanced and much more liable to feel the full spectrum of humans’ sensory experience than the average robot.

In conclusion; Kiibo rubs his eyes often, at a degree that Saihara grows worried for him.

“Kiibo-kun… It’s not exactly good to rub your eyes that much.”

“Don’t worry Saihara-kun! My eyes are structured much stronger than the average human eyes, they won’t be harmed that easily.” Kiibo carries on rubbing his eyes after saying so.

“Still… Rubbing your eyes that much will definitely affect your own eyesight, won’t it? Even if it doesn’t affect your eyes the same way as it would for us, rubbing your eyes that frequently would still block your eyesight much, don’t you think?”

“That’s true.” Kiibo stops for a moment before smiling again. “Oh wait! Saihara-kun, if you can answer me a small question, I promise you I will stop doing that!”

“What is it?”

“Why are there like, small stars and colors appearing everywhere in my eyesight when I rub my eyes that much?”

Saihara frowns. Seeing “stars” and bursts of colors when one rubs their eyes are normal enough phenomena… Would anyone seriously think about stuff like that? “Honestly, I don’t know either, but please, Kiibo-kun—”

“Then I will keep doing that until I figure out why!”

Saihara sighs, knowing that his struggle to get Kiibo to stop has already failed. Kiibo, on the other hand, smiles to himself; he could keep the secret that he likes rubbing his eyes solely around Saihara because those “stars” look nice sparkling around Saihara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed this nonetheless!! I promise better stuff is on their way aaaa


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright little bits of warnings as usual:
> 
>   * drabble 6 and 9 have endgame spoilers (yes, you can go ahead and make the nice joke)
>   * again, all the prompts are from random foreign words
>   * what is a proper prompt list I don't know her
> 


**6\. shuushi**

_(n.) “autumnal melancholy”; a feeling of deep sadness associated with the autumn season [Japanese]_

 

⸭

 

Today is the first day of autumn. Saihara doesn’t know it for just seeing the leaves fall off into glittery patterns, or from watching the hill turn red and the sky gloomy.

Saihara knows it because this is the day Danganronpa ended. For one year, to be exact. It’s their first anniversary to be away from Danganronpa, forever and ever.

Despite all the excitement surrounding the anniversary, the equally, if not more, solemn mood of the autumn envelopes them into a sense of obligation not to overtly celebrate it. So the three of them simply get together and bake cakes.

“Saihara, are you done with the cream?”

“Yeah.” Saihara gives the girls the cream to be spread on the cake and turns to the accessories.

Himiko frowns at that. “Saihara… why are you taking these dolls? Do you want to put them on the cake?”

“Yeah. I got them from the last batch of recalled Danganronpa merch. I just really want to have some ways to honour our classmates and friends…” Saihara takes each of those thirteen out one by one and places them onto the fringes of the cake by the order of their deaths. Amami, Akamatsu, Hoshi, Toujou, Angie…

“Huh?”

Saihara pokes in deeper into the bag, but his hand clasps onto no more wooden doll.

Harukawa looks to the dolls, then turns to Saihara. “Where’s Kiibo?”

“I… I don’t know,” Saihara puts down the bag, then opens up the cupboard where he placed the bag. Nothing. The other cupboard to its right. Nothing. The other cupboard, and another—

“I don’t know.”

“It’s okay.” Himiko gives Saihara a pat on the back. “We’re just missing one. I’m sure Kiibo will understand us.”

Around 5 when they finished the cake with the rest of the students’ relatives, and it is a pretty good cake. Most of the others also mourn the fact that Kiibo’s doll is missing, but they don’t let that get to them, unlike Saihara.

Eventually, after everyone has left at 6, Saihara takes out the unfinished Kiibo doll out of the cupboard in his room, and he takes a good look at Kiibo’s unfinished smile, one that barely stretches across his face at all.

“Next autumn… next autumn I will get you out.” Saihara promises to himself, yet the knowledge that this promise would not reach Kiibo’s ears only serves to add another layer of melancholy to his weakening psyche.

This Kiibo is the only one left as long as he could remember. The Danganronpa stores have long discontinued the line. And as all the stores gradually close down, all the dolls will be left to rot over time. Only God knows what Saihara has gone through to obtain this one, only to realize it is a bootleg that has pretty much all of its defining features scrubbed off, the only evidence of it being Kiibo the distinctive antenna.

Truly quite a different sense of autumnal sadness to know they won’t exist anymore.

 

* * *

 

     7 **. gluggaveður**

_(n.) lit. “window-weather”; a weather looks so picturesque through the window, until you’re actually outside in it; a weather best enjoyed only behind the window [Icelandic]_

 

⸭

 

Saihara has been painting this view for a whole hour.

The slope of the hill seems somewhat slippery in the initial sketch, so now the hill seems a little bit less stable. The volume of the portrait could be a little bit improved if he stops and changes it some more—

That said, however, the painting still seems lovely. Quite a perfect image of what the hills and the weather abound with sunshine is like. The colours are just the right tone, the lines not too excessively detailing everything on the picture. How wonderful, how serene.

“Sorry there… what are you doing?”

Saihara looks away from his canvas, startled but intrigued by the sudden voice. Kiibo is standing right outside the window, his metallic exterior looking like it’s burnt by the intense sunlight.

“I’m painting the view outside.”

“Why don’t you just come outside to look at it?”

“I am looking at it! I just want to record it the best way I can.”

Kiibo frowns and looks right back outside. “But what’s the point of recording a weather and view that you cannot feel yourself? The weather right now is just the nice kind of warm that’s good for physical activity yet not too cool! You should totally come outside, Saihara-kun!”

Saihara looks down on his palette and paintbrush again. The painting still seems perfect, but Kiibo’s outstretched hand is objectively more tantalizing. “Alright, for my lovely boyfriend—I’m coming right out!”

Kiibo’s cheeks flush in an instant, and flare up to even higher degrees when Saihara does come out of the house. Before he has to worry about how to deal with his blushes, however, Saihara seems to be frowning quite badly. “This weather…”

“What, Saihara-kun? Is it bad or something?”

Saihara looks back at Kiibo and, instead of agreeing so, smiles a somewhat forced smile. “No! It’s okay! I feel absolutely fantastic!”

_Any window-weather is absolutely fantastic with you, Kiibo._

 

* * *

 

      **8\. fýrgebræc**

_(n.) the distinct, sharp crackling or breaking sound made by a fire; lit. “fire break” [Old English]_

 

⸭

The fire crackles with a degree of intensity that can only be matched with the intensity of Kiibo’s probing stares.

“... Kiibo-kun, what exactly is it that you want to ask?”

Kiibo nods to himself a little bit and mutters something Saihara can’t decipher, before turning back to look at him in the eyes. “Saihara-kun, I didn’t really understand the necessity of this trip up here into the woods, but I think I do now.”

“... I never really said there’s a particular point other than helping us to relax…”

“I know that! But you forget, Saihara-kun, that commonly-speaking, people will find something in everything to be meaningful, right? Any experience could bring forth some life lessons we desperately need in life… So! I think I finally figured out which one it is for this trip!”

Saihara looks at the fire. “So, what exactly would that be?”

Kiibo coughs a little to clear his throat, then looks back towards the fire. “See? We built this fire by ourselves, fed it enough wood to make it glow as bright as possible. I think that life is just like that—we need to do whatever we can to make ourselves better and better, just like how we go on this trip to relax and get better!”

Saihara shrugs, but not in a dismissive manner. “I’m glad you got that figured out, Kiibo-kun. But I feel like there’s something else you should figure out here.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“It’s that with the fire by your side, you look even more adorable than usual.”

Kiibo makes a sound akin to sputtering. “Saihara-kun! You can’t just suddenly say things like that—”

Just before Kiibo could finish his train of thought, though, the fire diminishes and vanishes into smoking pieces of wood. Saihara sighs.

“And here I thought I could admire your view some more.” He gets up, dejected, and takes his leave to gather more firewood before a voice stops him. “Saihara-kun!”

Saihara turns back to see a small wisp of fire on the tip of Kiibo’s left index finger.

“Kiibo-kun, how did you—”

“Like I’ve said, we always have to improve after all!” Kiibo puts it to the wood again, and fires burst forth once more, crackling in a comfortable autumnal rhythm. Kiibo displays another proud, but somewhat coyer smile.

“That said though, I think any trip with Saihara-kun is already great!”

 

* * *

 

      **9\. resfeber**

_(n.) the nervous feeling before undertaking a journey; the restless race of a traveller’s heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation tangled together [Swedish]_

 

⸭

 

“Tomorrow’s trip is gonna be really tough, huh?”

Tetsuya lets out something like a chuckle. “I would wager that the single word ‘tough’ won’t even begin to describe that. After all, we have to—”

“Shh,” Saihara presses a soft finger at Tetsuya’s lips, stopping his eager words from pouring out. Somehow, that sense of enthusiasm simply does not fit. Outright panic doesn’t either. “Tomorrow’s trip is taking us into the concrete complex once known as Tokyo. It’s a beautiful city full of people—no doubt full of people like us too.”

Tetsuya gently removes the finger on his lips away from him and back to Saihara, before quickly grabbing it and giving it a gentle kiss. “You are right. There’s hope that people like us are around. I’m sure they are also out there and doing what they can achieve their dreams.”

Saihara’s lips won’t budge in time to protest Tetsuya’s act nor to retort his words. “Of course… With that said though, I still can’t quite shake the fear running through me. To think that after this trip that nothing will be the same again. And not knowing how this trip will really end up is like—”

“Look here, Shuuichi,” Tetsuya turns around and takes Saihara’s hand into his. “Quite frankly speaking, there is no turning back for us. And even if we can, are you really willing to give up so much of this that we had worked together for? Do you?”

“I… Of course not.” Saihara sighs, chancing a glance at Tetsuya’s bangs without his notice. “I love you and I love all the work we have done so far to secure our futures. I won’t regret any of this; I just can’t stop imagining all the things that could go wrong in this trip, like losing our identifications or the staff rejecting us at the last minutes because our parents called…” Tetsuya is about to argue once more before Saihara rests his head on Tetsuya’s chest and continues.

“But I’m not afraid anymore. As long as we have each other, things will be okay.”

Tetsuya smiles and takes Saihara into a deeper embrace.

Thank all things holy above this trip to the Danganronpa audition centre won’t be made alone anymore.

 

* * *

 

      **10\. kabelsalat**

_(n.) lit. “cable salad”; an unwanted, annoying tangled mess of electrical cords or wires cluttered and difficult to untangle [German]_

 

⸭

 

“Kiibo-kun? What happened to you?”

Kiibo did not dignify Saihara with a response, instead choosing to pick at his hips yet again.

The mess of wires gripping him there did not budge at all. Kiibo lets out a loud groan. “I can’t do this. I’m stuck.”

Saihara has a faint smile on his face. “I can help you with it, if you have just asked—”

“But I shouldn’t! I’m familiar with these wires like the back of my palms and yet I just go and let myself tangle into them. Just because I need to charge too…”

“There’s nothing wrong in committing mistakes like that though,” Saihara said as he too walks into the mess and picks them up, attempting to unknot one from the other.

“Saihara-kun, stop! You will only make it worse for both of us—”

Before either of them could make another move, Saihara trips. It sends him right down next to Kiibo.

“Sorry, I tripped—” Saihara laughs, before trying to get up.

The realization that he too is stuck in the wires hits him swift and hard.

“Saihara-kun… I told you not to get in,” Kiibo attempts to get down to untangle the wires around Saihara’s legs. Both of their movements are clumsy at best, however, both fumbling around just trying to get the wires around them to move a bit away.  Saihara has exerted what is quite possibly the most he has in his entire life before he gives up and sits back down onto the ground.

“Let’s wait for Dr Iidabashi to save us.”

Kiibo lets out a forfeiting sigh before sitting down onto the ground with Saihara. The duo falls into comfortable silence.

“I guess… Being stuck like that sometimes isn’t that bad.”


End file.
